


The Bard's Kitten

by Taurie_Lucas



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Complete Story, Cute, Lil' precious kitten, cute fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taurie_Lucas/pseuds/Taurie_Lucas
Summary: Geralt went on a hunt. Jaskier now can't find him, however, he does stumble upon a new little companion to keep him company while he waits for Geralt's return.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 19





	The Bard's Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short, cute fic where the idea came from one of the lovely people of a Witcher group I am apart of. They like it, so I hope you guys like it too!

**The Bard’s Kitten**

“Geralt!?” Jaskier whispered into the forest before him, gingerly making his way through the trees and scrub, hoping to be as quiet as possible. He wasn’t scared! Of course not. He just doesn’t want whatever monster the Witcher was hunting to tear him apart.  
He was pretty sure he was heading in a similar direction that Geralt took, but everything was quiet, almost eerily so, where the sounds he was making seemed deafening.

“Mew!”

The Bard did not jump out of his skin nor did he yelp with an octave as high as the mewling creature. Hand on his heart and releasing the tree he gripped in his terr — in his surprise, he carefully made his way closer to the sound. After his breathing calmed down, his brain registered the mewling and rationalised that it sounded like… a cat? A cat? _‘What’s a cat doing here of all places?_ I _don’t even know where here is!’_ Jaskier came to a stop where the mewling seemed to be coming from, but he really couldn’t see anything. Beginning to feel antsy and thinking that this may be a trap after all, he turned on his heel and was ready to leg it when he spotted a tiny, white creature by his feet. Needless to say, he _didn’t_ physically jump at least 2 metres away and land on his arse. Scrambling backwards until he hit a tree, the Bard then rushed to his feet and hid behind it. The mewling continued, more rapid as if it was trying to gain attention, so he risked a glance. Doing a double-take, his mouth hung open in surprise as well as letting out a relieved breath. It really was a cat, well, a kitten really. A small thing, practically palm-sized and brown as the mud and dirt that clung to it. Its eyes were the browning yellow of autumn leaves which reminded him of Geralt’s eyes. As if he just remembered why he was out in the wilderness, Jaskier shook his head and walked up to the poor thing. It stopped it’s mewling and looked up with a strangely determined look in its eyes.

“Hey, little one,” he started, offering his fingers so the kitten could smell him, “I’m going to take you with me, okay? I can’t take you back to camp right now though. I’m looking for my… friend. Let’s look together and once we find him, I can clean you up and fill your little belly. How does that sound?” he cooed, reaching to pick it up. Immediately the kitten hissed, ears back and spine arched.

“What? You are going to fall behind if I don’t pick you up. You are far too small.” When he tried again and was met with the same resistance he sighed dejectedly. “Fine, but if you fall behind it’s your fault. You wanted to walk.” The kitten stood up straighter and had a look in its eyes as if it understood what he was saying. After dealing with Roach for so long, the Bard was accustomed to animals behaving more intellectual than usual, so it didn’t really phase him too much. Standing up, he took a few experimental steps to see if the little thing would actually follow and sure enough it did. It was only after a few minutes of the kitten getting stuck, getting lost in the brush twice and weird, uncoordinated walking, that Jaskier took pity on it and scooped it up without a warning. It hissed and tried to scratch him, but it really was small and holding it out at arm’s length by the scruff made sure that blood wouldn’t be drawn.

“You’re going to have to put up with it little one. I cannot fathom you getting lost or killed just because you have small-man syndrome. Or would it be small-kitten syndrome? Anyway, you are going in my pocket and that is that.” The kitten made a small rumbling, “merrr” sound but didn’t put up any other fight. “See? You’re warm now, although I will have to wash my jacket when we get back.” Huffing out a sigh he set off again, but as the sky turned darker, so did his hopes at finding Geralt that night. Turning around, he did his best at retracing his steps back to camp. Travelling with the Witcher did have its perks as the Bard picked up a few skills here and there. Tracking definitely wasn’t his strong suit nor was direction, but what he did pick up helped him on his journey back to camp, where Roach huffed at seeing him come back without Geralt.

“Don’t blame me Roach! He went off on his own. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.” She huffed and scraped a hoof on the floor in annoyance. “Oh, piss off you pony! I’m going to find some food.” Roach moved towards him at the insult to probably injure him in some way, but at the mention of food, she backed off.

It wasn’t until Jaskier arrived back at camp that he remembered the kitten. It had been so quiet for the longest time that he forgot about it. Dropping the herbs to the floor and giving Roach an apple he was lucky enough to find, he reached into his pocket and carefully took out the little thing. It made an annoyed sound and yawned.

“I didn’t mean to wake you little one, I just wanted to make sure you were still with us,” he said, “We should probably give you a bath. Now, I should warn you, it’s going to be cold. So please bear with me.” He took off his boots and coat, rolled up his sleeves and walked to the stream that was nearby. He sat at the bank, holding the kitten in one hand and scooping up some water with the other and poured it over the kitten. He really didn’t want to put it in the water, but it became apparent that he would have to do so as he wasn’t getting anywhere. Strangely it didn’t put up much of a fuss, even though it was shaking from the cold. Shockingly, the creature was white. _‘It must have had a little trouble in a muddy puddle, the poor thing.’_ The Bard went as quick as he could and once the kitten was clean he wrapped it up in his coat and carried it over to the fire pit so he could start a fire and get some food going.

After two more days of waiting for Geralt, Jaskier decided it would be best to find the closest town, to hopefully perform for a room and some glorious meat. Any extra cash would be appreciated and definitely wasted on drink. He wasn’t a hunter nor does he have the skill to survive long in the wilderness, let alone looking after two others creatures. He packed everything up, put as much onto Roach as he dared and started their trek just before the sun rose.

It took most of the day, but they reached a town just as twilight fell and found an inn willing to trade entertainment for accommodation and food. He put Roach into the stable and hid the kitten in his coat, then made his way to his rooms to hide the kitten there. It had been very quiet and motionless over the two days and this day was no different. He was worried about it but hoped a little meat will perk it up. Finding a drawer, he put some of his socks in to make a bed and popped the kitten in there. It curled up immediately. He closed the drawer carefully, then made his way to the main hall, grabbing his lute on the way past. It was a good thing he practised and warmed up his voice on the journey here. He pulled a decent crowd, made enough money in the first hour for a weeks stay if he wasn’t already trading his time for his room. Finally, he needed a break so he grabbed some food, ensuring there was enough meat for the kitten and grabbed some ale and sat and ate his fill. When he was done, he put the kitten’s portion in his pocket, snuck upstairs and popped the meat into the drawer. It didn’t move much at first, but when its nose caught the scent, it twitched and then very so slowly moved towards the food. The poor thing must have been ravenous and the sad excuse of soup he had made the past few days mustn’t have done it any good. He could have watched it more, but he had already been gone too long. He closed the door and ran down the stairs, chugged his ale and took the floor once more, bringing the crowd together with the favoured song ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’.

Over the week, the Bard played every other day and when he wasn’t entertaining or making sure Roach wasn’t causing a ruckus, he was holed up in his rooms. At first, he looked after the kitten as it seemed to get its strength back from the meat it was fed, then once the kitten seemed less starved, the worry finally sunk in. There was no sign of the Witcher, no strange messenger birds, no letters, nothing. Normally, the Bard would have thought that Geralt had finally left him, but he left behind Roach who he seemed more attached to than any other person. He almost doesn’t go anywhere without her. He couldn’t help the worry. He knows that Geralt probably doesn’t acknowledge him as a companion, let alone a _friend_ , but in his travels with the Witcher, he has grown quite fond of him. Sure, he is an all-powerful force, but he still gets hurt and still feels no matter what anyone else thinks. When he gets down like this, he talks to the kitten who really helps to ease his nerves. There’s something about its eyes that give him a little hope. That and all the shit that it does which keeps his mind off negative thoughts.

One night after entertaining, he wearily walked to his rooms, put down the lute and was about to flop on the bed when he noticed the cutest thing. The kitten was asleep in the middle of the bed. It was on its back with its hind legs and tail up at its face! He slept on the edge of the bed that night. Another time it allowed him to pet it. Out of the multitude of times Jaskier tried to pet it, this particular day it relented and it revelled in it, purring, forcing a sound from the Bards throat in his excitement that he would happily never make again. Even the kitten looked astonished and promptly moved away. Other days he would find it on the highest point in the room looking down at everything with a regalness about it, observing and quiet, or he would be jolted awake by the thing knocking over his lute, then look at him as if it happened all on its own and walk away with its head held high. Sometimes it would rub its head against Geralt’s sword and tap at it and stare at it until Jaskier comes along and tells it off, “If Geralt saw you doing that you would have no paws left… well, I’m not actually sure about that. I’m not sure where he stands on baby animals. Maybe you will just be thrown out the window. At least you’d land on your feet and have all your appendages and will be likely to survive,” he rambled, but the kitten would tilt its head and stare at him, longer than was comfortable so he would pick it up and put it on the bed before heading down to the main hall for a meal.

On the eighth day of his stay, he was equally surprised and not surprised that Yennifer had shown up looking for him and knowing that Geralt had been gone for days. They sat at one of the tables with their food and drink, but Yennfier’s beautiful yet intimidating violet eyes didn’t leave him once.

“Urgh, stop staring! What do you want me to say? I lost him? ‘Cause I won’t. He is the big bad Witcher who doesn’t need anybody, let alone a powerless Bard who just sings about his travels.” Jaskier sat back with a huff with his arms crossed, looking anywhere but at the sorceress.

“Bloody hell Bard, relax. When I got wind that Geralt hadn’t shown up anywhere for the last week, I got curious. He never really hides. So tell me what you know,” she laughed, leaning forward and picking at her food. Jaskier let out a relieved sigh, “Well, he heard about a monster, I couldn’t tell you what it was called, it had a complicated name, so he led us south? Then set up camp close to where it was supposed to be. He then left to find it and I haven’t heard from him since. I’ve still got everything, including Roach who’s in the stables. So you can’t make a stupid joke about him finally coming to his wits and cutting ties with a talentless Bard.”

“Wow. You’ve really got this self-depreciation thing down to a T,” she pointed out. Her demeanour softened and she took a hold of his hand. He looked apprehensive, but before he could make a remark she continued, “I’m going to be real here Bard. I know I have this front of a stuck up bitch, which is mostly true, but I do actually like you. Plus I still have a thing for Geralt even though he has already pulled the plug on that one. I can see that you feel friendly towards him too and that’s why you are so down on yourself.” He didn’t really like being picked apart but he appreciated her openness.

“Yeah, I know. But it doesn’t help. Even if I knew he was actually in trouble, realistically what could I do? Apart from die?” he said, deflated. He suddenly rubbed his hands over his face, tapped his cheeks a few times and smiled. “Well, you’re here now so maybe there is a chance to help him after all. Plus, I have a little friend who has been keeping me company, keeping me positive this past week and I want you to see it.”

Wide-eyed, Yennifer looked taken aback from the sudden change in mood. “Uh, okay?” she said slowly, then decided to add, “It’s not one of your many bedmates, is it? I don’t really want to see your conquests. Your tastes in men aren’t as refined as mine, and don’t even deny that you are a taker,” she laughed and then more so when she saw the Bard’s flushed face.

“Shut up, witch. No, it’s not a conquest. Just follow me,” he ground out, leading her up the stairs to his rooms. When he opened the door, he swept his arm out inviting her in. Seeing the kitten curled up on the bed, Jaskier gestured for Yennifer to come over. Hearing the sounds in the room, the kitten looked up, then sat up straight when it caught the gaze of the sorceress. Yennifer seemed frozen for all of a split second before a chuckle fell from her lips which turned into full-blown laughter. She was holding her sides and had tears falling from her cheeks. The kitten mewled incessantly which only caused her to laugh harder, louder and higher.

“What the fuck, Yen?”

“Have you… have you got a name for it?” she asked through her giggles. She couldn’t really stop them, it was just so fucking funny. The Bard thought for a second, his hand on his chin.

“I never actually thought about it to be honest.” Through another bout of giggles she offered, “What about Geralt?” but as soon as it left her mouth she was in a fit again. He paid her no mind.

“Well, obviously I can’t call it that. Geralt will kill me.” He was about to snap at her this time to see what was so bloody funny when the kitten walked to the edge of the bed, eyes on Yennifer and let out the cutest little growl with its hackles raised and ears flat too. Being such a small creature and posing no threat, its growl fell on deaf ears as she began cackling once more. It jumped from the bed and bit her leg.

“Ow! You bastard! It’s not my fault you’re like this! I can’t help but laugh. You are just so cute!” It nipped her again and swiped at her with its claws, “Fuck off Geralt!” With that, the kitten seemed pleased with itself whereas Jaskier looked as pale as a sheet.

“Geralt… as in The Witcher Geralt? The fucking cat it _Geralt!?_ ” Yennifer’s muffled chuckle from behind her hand was all the answer he needed. “I made him sleep on my socks…” He said whispered disbelievingly. Well, that did it. The sorceress was sat on the floor now, hands around her stomach, doubled over and shaking from laughter.

“Oh please tell me more!” she gasped out, but Jaskier was still wide-eyed and in denial. A few minutes passed as the kitten, Geralt, kept quiet to stop any more laughter at his expense and finally the sorceress quieted down, the huge smile on her face not disappearing in the slightest. The Bard seemed a little less ghastly and was the first to break the short silence. “Can you fix it?” he asked her. “Of course I can,” she scoffed. To demonstrate her point she closed her eyes, softly chanting under her breath. Geralt made a strange mewl sound which had Jaskier looking at him, which then made his mouth drop a little at the small feline body began to grow bigger, elongate, the fur receding and the face contorting and moulding back into the handsome face of The Witcher. “See?” she said proudly while looking Geralt up and down. He was naked, as to be expected.

“Fuck, it feels good to be back in my own body,” Geralt growled out, stretching his limbs and twisting here and there. Silently he walked over to where the Bard had stored his belongings and began dressing. The Bard hadn’t moved from his spot the whole time but found his voice, “Geralt… I am so sorry! If I had known I woulnd’t have treated you so… so delicately.” Yennifer let out a high pitched giggle from behind her hand, eyes already glistening from the effort of stopping the laughter. “What did you —” she tried to ask.

“Not another word Bard!” the Witcher demanded, turning around and pinning the others with his intense glare. It didn’t help the sorceress’ composure though and another few giggles fell out which quickly turned into a proper laughing fit. Jaskier tried to make himself as small as possible but seeing how Geralt hasn’t done anything thus far and the whole situation had finally clicked into his brain, he felt the fluttering, tickling sensation in his belly and finally, gave into the laughter.

“I have never been so humiliated,” Geralt said, shaking his head and began gathering up his things. “You are on your own now Bard and Witch, you can go back to whatever hole you crawled out from.”

  
When Yennifer and Jaskier calmed down, they all went down to the main hall for some ale and a feed. Of course, Geralt didn’t leave, he actually likes the company he keeps but he won’t admit it. He told them what happened and how he got turned into that ridiculously helpless animal, which, apparently, was just as funny to the witch. The Bard kept sneaking glances to him and it was getting on his nerves.

“What is it Jaskier?” he demanded.

“Well, how much of it did you have control of?” Geralt stared at him, from his food, “Why?” He could see the Bard swallow nervously.

“The purring,” he started slowly, stopping to look at Yennifer who’s interest piqued almost immediately. “ and the meowing and all the cute… er, all the stuff you did. Like knocking over my fucking lute in the middle of the night…” he trailed off. Geralt growled a ‘hmmm’ and sat back.

“I could control some of it. There were instincts that I could not contend with. The… situation with my sword, in my mind I just wanted to feel it in my hand again, but then I would be overcome with this urge to make it mine? Which is where the scenting came into it. I couldn’t stop it. I knew it was mine, but maybe after all those days with you handling it, your scent must have gotten onto it. Your lute, on the other hand, was on purpose. I wanted revenge for the… purring.” Yennifer snorted and looked expectantly at the Bard. Smiling, Jaskier disregarded the hard look he was being given and focused on the sorceress. He began his tale, not just stopping at the purring incident, but everything he could remember from the past week. They both laughed heartily while the Witcher sat back in his seat, filtering out the snorts and the slapping of the table, in favour of people watching.

Suddenly, someone burst through the inn doors asking for a Witcher. Geralt happily got up and made his way to the trembling man.

“Try not to get turned into a bunny this time Geralt,” was all he heard as he left his ‘friends’ howling at the table.


End file.
